This week I made huge strides in my research, due largely to the incredible support I have received. The people I have met in the course of my work here have been nothing short of amazingly open and helpful. They have bent over backwards to assist me, and I am grateful beyond measure. I only hope that my findings can be of some benefit to them in return.
As the title of my blog suggests, here in Uganda, you learn to take the good with the bad, and each with their own occasional dousing of sheer ugliness. There is perpetual contrast with life in Africa: Things contradict, confuse and clash within the North American mindset. Yet amidst the clutter and seeming chaos there is order and sense; there is happiness and hope; there is joy and beauty...at least when one is patient enough to scratch the surface. Where the west has so often ascribed Africa's ails to "backwardness and primitivism" it is, in actually, just human survival and adaptation to dire circumstances. It's the equivalent of squeezing complicated lives into simple headlines.
I'm far from suggesting that I've "got Africa figured out", because I see things on a daily basis that continue to frustrate me. But it is this kind of resistance to accept the human condition in its entirety, that flags even me along the way.
A few days ago I interviewed a young girl who was abducted by the LRA at the age of 12. Her story is both shocking and inspiring, and, it has brought real meaning to the term "vicarious trauma." (Thank-you Penny for pointing me to that one.) When she was stolen from her family, her father was on his death-bed with AIDS. I could sense her pain as she described this loss, because it foretold how the next 6 years of her life have unfolded: outright loss of innocence and abject loss of dignity. The daily life of a girl-soldier within the ranks of the LRA usually entailed being raped (usually by more than one man), back-breaking labour, and being forced at gunpoint to act out a whole array of other despicable tasks ranging from the inhumane to outright evil.
'Haunting' is a word I usually associate with ghosts, not with someone breathing and seated in front of me. But, as she told me about her experiences as a girl soldier, I felt my soul shiver---the hairs on my neck actually stood up on a few occasions. As she continued with her story, she showed me the scars she received: one bullet wound in her arm, and another just inches above her hip. To this day, one bullet remains in her arm because she is unable to afford the cost of extracting it, so the pain she feels is both physical, and psychological---not to mention persistent reminders of her past. She is living her past on a daily basis, but she is now battling a new war...getting educated, on her own dime. And believe me, that's no small mountain to climb here in Africa!
When she finally escaped from the LRA some 2 years later, she underwent a psychosocial reintegration program---as most of the former child soldiers here have. These reintegration programs are intended to allow former child combatants to be brought back into their families and communities. This is no easy task given the cultural beliefs surrounding those who have killed or witnessed killing and death. The Acholi believe that those who have done so are, in essence, haunted by the spirits of those they have killed or seen being killed etc. Add to that the fact that many of these former child soldiers were forced to kill their own family members or neighbours...one can begin to see the complexities involved in making amends on either side of the fence.
Now, I don't want to bore you with incidentals, but this was initially going to be the focus of my research: to measure the incidence of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and determine whether traditional healing practices or western psychological methods were more effective in dealing with these "ghosts." As another side-note, it has been estimated that the highest incidence of PTSD in the world exists right here in Northern Uganda, and looking into the eyes of the people here, I tend to agree with that assessment.
Getting back to my story, when this girl came back from 'the bush' she was given the equivalent of $100 US, a foamy mattress, and two weeks of 'psychosocial' counselling. She was then sent on her way at the tender age of 14 to 'successfully reintegrate' back into her community. Now, I'm not blind to the realities of this world. I know that utopia is a planet somewhere far off in the cosmos where unicorns and rainbows flourish, and where Barack Obama's words instil immediate fear in the hearts of Republicans and BP bigwigs alike. Yet, at the same time, I'm a firm believer in our the ability to protect children. We can land on the moon, split atoms, and then try to fuse them back together again, but we can't at least try and take better care of our children? Tell me that's not mad science.
If you've managed to read thus far, you've likely deduced that I'm becoming as jaded as they come.
Anyways, despite all the gloom and doom that my words are likely eliciting, the hope this girl emitted was electric. She told me about finishing school and becoming a doctor or a teacher; and it wasn't a "if I become a doctor or teacher" type of conversation, it was a "when I become a doctor or teacher" dialogue! Her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree with joy...as if she knew that she was going to be either or. That is vicarious joy, and it sure helps with the vicarious trauma. I gratefully accept both...
As always, thanks for reading.
It amazes me how resilient that young girl seems to be. What hope she has and how inspiring.
ReplyDeleteAlways a pleasure reading your work!
keep up the great work Mike. Kinda wish I was back there in Uganda myself.
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